Fixated

by Scarlett Avery

  I hate to see her go, but when I look at the time on my phone, I realize to my great surprise that it’s already one o’clock. I got here around nine this morning and I must’ve bumped into Miranda fifteen to twenty minutes after I arrived, so I’ve been walking around the market with this amazing woman for the past three and a half hours. Time just flew by. “I understand. Where are you parked?”

  “I didn’t come by car—”

  “Where should I drop you off?” I retort without giving her a chance to finish her sentence. I’m not letting her go this easily.

  “I’m okay. I have my bike in the parking lot.”

  I frown and look at all the bags at her feet and then my own hands, weighed down by her purchases. “Miranda, you’ll tip over. There’s no way your bike will hold you and all this food.”

  “It’s okay.” She lowers her eyes, looking around her, taking stock of reality. “Maybe you’re right. I should call a cab instead.”

  Oh, no, you don’t.

  “Listen, since I got you fresh new oranges, we shared what turned out to be a sensual—I mean, succulent—meal”—she smiles at my joke—”and I’ve been roaming around this market with you all morning, the least you can do is accept my offer. We’ll put your bike in my SUV and we can line the back seat and the trunk with all of your groceries.”

  Her gaze is fixated on me again. “Ride with you?” She folds her lower lip into her mouth, pondering. Goddammit, every time she does this I just want to take her mouth into mine without asking permission.

  “Yes, ride me.”

  “Huh?” She frowns. “What did you just say?”

  “I said ride with me.” I flash her a cocky smile, very much aware of the fact that my answer was no Freudian slip.

  “I think you’re twisting things around.”

  “I think you’re hearing what you want here, sweetie. Now that you know that I’m single and I’m not gay, I’m sure all sorts of very dirty things are going through that pretty little head of yours. Things I’m sure could turn my cheeks rosy.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “I highly doubt anything can make you blush.”

  “You’re right. There’s nothing shy about me. Come on. I’m taking you home,” I command.

  “Well…”

  “You hesitate as if I were a serial killer.”

  “One can never be too careful.” She lifts her chin defiantly.

  “I agree, but do you make it a habit to spend this much time with a guy you suspect of being a murderer?” I shake my head with a smile hanging from my lips.

  “Okay. You win. I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to put you out.”

  “Not at all.” I wink.

  There’s a whole lot more I’d like to offer, but let’s just keep it to a ride for now.

  I help her with her bags and we walk the short distance to my SUV. I make one more trip to recover her bike that’s locked on the bicycle parking rack and we’re set to go. Once we have everything safely inside the vehicle, I turn to her. “Where to, dear Miranda?”

  “I’m staying at Marguerita Avenue and 10th Street.”

  I’m shocked by her response. “I’m renting a place at Marguerita Avenue and 7th Street. You must’ve gotten paid really well at the coffee shop to afford to live in that neighborhood. Clearly, I’m in the wrong profession,” I tease.

  “Oh, no. I wish. That was my third job.”

  “You had three jobs?” I ask, amazed.

  “Yeah. Remember earlier I told you that I had resigned from my waitressing job?”

  “I do.”

  “I used to also work as a waitress for a private caterer. I was on call, but I’d work two or three nights a week and I was booked most Saturdays and at least one Sunday per month. Sometimes, I’d finish a shift at Lola’s Paradise and rush to my catering job. It was brutal. Today’s the first day since I moved to LA that I’m not working. I’m really excited because I start a great new job on Monday that pays way better than both of my waitressing jobs combined and it’s far more rewarding.”

  Wow. “Okay, that’s two jobs, what’s the third?”

  “I kept my job as a house-sitter because paying rent in LA is insane when you’re single and you prefer to live on your own instead of sharing a place with weirdoes. Been there, done that and I’m not going back.”

  She doesn’t have a boyfriend? I love the sound of that.

  “That’s a lot to juggle for someone who seems so young.”

  “I’m already twenty-two,” she announces proudly, “and I’ve had to deal with more shit than people twice my age will ever have to deal with in a lifetime.”

  “You absolutely come across as someone who can take care of themselves.” She beams at my answer. “So what’s the new job you’ll be starting?”

  “Uh…” she starts. “I know this might sound silly, but I’m a bit superstitious that way. I tend not to talk all that much about a new job until I’ve passed the first day. I guess it’s my way of not jinxing it. This is such a huge opportunity for me and for some strange reason I’m expecting I’ll get there on Monday to find out it was just a dream.”

  “I get it. And for the record, I’m sure you’re worried for nothing. I bet you’ll do great on your first day. We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not comfortable.” I shrug.

  “Thanks for understanding.”

  “It’s funny how we were strangers yesterday morning and now it seems like we’re neighbors,” I point out, changing the subject.

  “I know, right?”

  “We’re within walking distance of each other.”

  “Yeah, but the place you’re renting is closer to the beach than mine.”

  “True. I’ll have to have you over sometime. I’m renting this big mansion and the view from the deck is breathtaking and the garden is spectacular.”

  “Oh.” She seems completely overwhelmed by my suggestion.

  “No need to blush. It’s not an official invitation yet,” I tease, tapping my index finger against her nose. It’s adorable how she goes from being a sassy woman to shy girl when I come on too strong. “Let’s get out of here so you make it on time for your hair appointment.”

  During the drive back to the house Miranda is housesitting, we talk about how her best friend, who works in the film industry, got into this line of work and how cool it is to live in a multi-million-dollar home without having to pay a cent of rent. To my chagrin, it’s a short drive. I’m usually very blunt when I want to see a woman again or when I want to fuck her, but there’s something about Miranda that suggests I should take it slow.

  “Hunter, it was the house over there,” Miranda says, pointing behind her. “You just passed it.”

  I guess I’m preoccupied with what I’m going to say and not focusing enough on where I’m going. “Sorry about that.” I put the car in reverse. “Voilà, you’re home. Let me help you with all these groceries.” I jump out of the vehicle and snake around the SUV until I reach her door. I help her out and we walk in silence to the trunk. It takes us a couple trips, but we finally manage to get all of her groceries and her bike in front of her door. “Why don’t I help you take those inside? It might be a lot for you to carry all the way into the kitchen.”

  “Thanks a lot for your help, Hunter. I’ll take care of it from here. I’m not really supposed to let anybody inside the house. It’s part of my contract. It’s not always the case, but this particular homeowner is a stickler on that rule.”

  “I understand.” Damn.

  “Even if I were able to sneak you in, Ruth, who lives across there,” she says, pointing at a house behind me, “also known as nosy Mrs. Silverstein, would most likely spot you and report me to the owner. She’s a busybody who spends half her days peeking through her curtains—as if nobody noticed—to find out what’s happening on the street. She’s always checking up on me as if it were her job. Mr. Silverstein is a sweetheart and he’s easy-going, but his wife is a whole other story.” Miranda giggles.
>
  “I’d hate to get you in any kind of trouble.”

  “Thanks so much for being such a good sport about it and thanks for the lift.”

  “Miranda, I’d love to see you again.”

  She hesitates, lowers her gaze, folds her lower lip inside her mouth before lifting her eyes up, meeting mine. I swear to God, if it weren’t for Mrs. Silverstein, I’d be making out with Miranda right here in front of this door, but I behave. The last thing I want is to jeopardize her job. She bats her eyelashes at me and says in a soft honey voice, “So would I, Hunter.” Yes.

  “It seems like we’re both going to have a late night since you have a party and I’m attending a gala later. Do you want to meet tomorrow for brunch? We can then drive up to Malibu and spend the afternoon there.”

  “That sounds like a great idea, but I can’t.” Fuck. “My best friend has a whole outdoors thing planned for the two of us on Sunday. She wants to take me out of the city for a relaxing day hiking before I start my new job.”

  Okay, strike two. “What about Monday night? We can connect and you can tell me all about your first day. I’m sure you’ll have a lot to share.”

  “Are you sure you want to hear about my first day at work? As much I’m looking forward to it, I doubt what I do is as exciting as being a successful rancher.”

  Time to cut to the chase. I’ve been patient enough. “We can talk about your day hiking, LA’s perfect weather or nosy Mrs. Silverstein. It’s your pick. The bottom line is I want to see you again and I want to see you soon. I hope you feel the same way.”

  She nods. “I totally do.”

  “I much prefer this answer.” I grin. “Since we live so close, why don’t I swing by and pick you up at eight?”

  “Perfect. That should give me plenty of time to fight my way through LA traffic and get back here on time.” She smiles.

  “Give me your phone. I’ll put in my number and you can text me if you’re running late.”

  She fishes through her backpack and hands me her iPhone without protest.

  “I’m booked solid on Monday and I have a late afternoon meeting with a new potential client. It’s a really important meeting and if I’m stuck there longer than I anticipated, I’ll let you know since it’ll affect my drive time back. We both know how unpredictable LA rush hour can be.”

  “Tell me about it,” she says, taking her phone back from me and shoving it in her back pocket. “Well, Hunter, thank you so much for a great day. I don’t think my shopping experience would’ve been nearly as enjoyable had I not bumped into you.”

  I take a step closer and lean into her. I’m inches away from her mouth. I can tell my proximity makes her nervous because she’s breathing hard, but she doesn’t back away. “I really want to kiss you right now, but I’m afraid I’ll give Mrs. Silverstein something to talk about so I’ll have to restrain myself. I guess I’ll have to wait until Monday to show you how much I enjoyed spending the day with you,” I confess. This close, my stature dwarfs her and my height forces her to tilt her head way back to meet my eyes.

  “Damn Mrs. Silverstein,” she whispers in a husky voice.

  I laugh and slightly distance myself from her before I compromise myself any further. My cock is pressing so hard against the zipper of my jeans, I’m sure it wouldn’t take much for me to come. I know for sure she’ll occupy my dreams tonight. My fist will have to do since her pussy is off-limits for now. “Have fun tonight and good luck on Monday. I’ll see you at eight. I look forward to hearing all about how your first day at your new job went.”

  “Eight.” She nods. “Right.” Her eyes are glazed with lust and I’m sure the passion I see in her gaze must match what’s reflected in mine.

  Poor girl. She’s nearly come undone and I haven’t even touched her. I snicker to myself as I walk away.

  I get back into my SUV, adjust my rearview mirror and take her in. Her reaction is priceless. Unable to resist, I pull out my phone to text her.

  I must’ve made quite the impression on you since you’re still standing there with that dazed look upon your face.

  She pulls out her phone, reads my message and lifts her eyes towards me. She rewards my forwardness with the same radiant smile she used to greet me when she first saw me earlier today.

  -----

  You’re very cocky.

  -----

  So I’ve been told.

  -----

  You come on too strong.

  -----

  You’re not complaining that hard. I think you enjoy it.

  -----

  You think you have me all figured out.

  -----

  On the contrary, I’m dying to know you better.

  -----

  You’re just playing with me.

  -----

  Honey, I haven’t yet started playing with you. When I do, you’ll know. I’ll see you in a few days. Have a great weekend.

  -----

  You too.

  This is definitely serendipity. Not only do I unexpectedly bump into this girl at the market, she lives only a few streets away from me. This is going to be fun.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Miranda

  Wow. I watch Hunter drive away and I’m stunned. No man has ever made me feel this alive. There’s something edgy and unpredictable about him. Being so close to him gets my blood pumping like crazy. I barely know the guy, but if the throbbing between my legs is any indication he’s definitely cast a spell on me. The funny thing is, I don’t think I’ve paid attention to what goes on down there in such a long time.

  I’m still holding onto my phone and I can’t help but reread the text messages we’ve just exchanged. “Holy hell,” I let out, exhaling loudly as I scroll down my screen.

  I’ve never had a guy be quite this direct with me before. I’m intrigued, turned on and slightly freaked out. He’s clearly older and more sophisticated than the guys I’ve dated, which makes me wonder what he sees in me.

  “Yeah, let’s pick Miranda when I can have dozens of hot, sexy women in LA. Let’s waste time with the ingénue who’s incapable of having an orgasm.”

  My temporary elation turns into dread. Snap out of it. I give myself a good mental lynching, forcing me out of my delusional state. What am I thinking? There’s no way I’d be able to satisfy a guy like that. I’ve never been good at the whole dating thing. Okay, I’m pretty terrible at it. Come to think of it, I’m not sure if Monday is a date or not, but I’m certain I’ll find a way to screw it up. I don’t have any problems being casual, friendly and even a little flirty with a guy when I first meet him, but when I feel he wants more, that’s when I panic. I may have a great repartee and I may come across as carefree, but that’s far from reality. It’s just a clever tactic I use to hide my insecurities. The truth of the matter is I’m extremely inexperienced with men and when most of them discover that, they run.

  Hunter won’t give me a second glance once he finds out how little I know. I mean why choose me when there are thousands of girls who know what they’re doing? Sure, men are fascinated by my big boobs and round ass, but it’s not nearly enough to keep them satisfied for long. I should know because the few boyfriends I’ve ever had have walked out on me because of my inexperience. The casual dates I’ve had weren’t any different.

  The alarm rings on my iPhone, reminding me that if I don’t get moving I really will be late for my appointment. “Oh, well, there’s no point in stressing out about it now. I’ll deal with it Monday. Worst-case scenario, Hunter and I can remain friends,” I say aloud before bending down to pick up my groceries.

  * * *

  “Miranda!”

  I’ve barely stepped inside the chic little boutique on Abbott Kinney Boulevard in Venice Beach before my best friend shouts my name and runs to me. In a flash, she has her arms around me in one of her trademark bear hugs.

  “Jess—” Before I’m even able to say her name, someone else cheers.

  “Sweet! Miranda is in the house,”
Michelle yells, running towards us.

  Before I know it, two of my favorite girls are hugging the daylights out of me and I’m loving every single minute of it.

  “Oh, my God, you guys. You’re going to suffocate me.”

  “We wouldn’t be showering you with this much affection if we saw you more often. With your three jobs, you barely have time to sleep, let alone hang out with your best friend.”

  “Jessica, she’s given up two of her time-sucking jobs. She’s entering the big leagues now and she’s going Hollywood as of Monday.” Michelle, Jessica’s older sister, chimes in, letting go of me and taking a step back.

  “You’re too funny, Michelle.” I smile at the tall brunette. “Jess,” I say, pressing my face into my friend’s neck. “Sorry I’m a little late and I apologize for being MIA lately. I’ve been taking as many extra shifts as I possibly could because I have to pay for the new wardrobe I bought a few weeks ago to start this new job.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Jessica says, taking my hand and dragging me inside the store. “Your hair looks amazing, by the way,” she says without turning around.

  “Oh, thanks. Colton is more excited than I am about tonight’s party and he went all out,” I say, brushing my long mane behind my shoulders.

  “Hush, child. You can’t rush perfection and Colton Alexander is a master. You should never force his hand. You simply have to let him work his magic. And he did you proud, girlfriend.”

  “I must admit he did a pretty good job.”

  “Good job? You’re a freaking bombshell. I wish my hair was as long and heavy as yours,” she laments, flipping her short chocolate-brown bob around. “My hair is so fine, this is as long as it’ll ever be. I just have to resign myself to living vicariously through your luxurious locks.”